goodbye, Greg

I learned tonight, while I was surfing Facebook after dinner, that Greg had died.

Fuck.

Sorry.

Greg was a lovely soul.  A truly sweet guy.  He was 55, he had fought cancer for years.  So, fuck you, cancer.

I met Greg in late 2008, I think.  Maybe it was 2009.  I just remember that by the time I went to NZ in 2009, he and I were friends online.  We met on Facebook in its earlier days, back when you might find yourself engaged in comment exchanges on a friend's wall, and then connect from there.  That's what happened to us.  Neither of us was much longer in touch with the then-mutual friend, but we stayed in touch.

In 2010, I did an open water swim in Noblesville, IN, and that was when we first met.  He came up from Indianapolis, and joined me and Conrad for dinner.  And he was real.  A funny and charming.  A delight.

We met up a few times after that, though not many.  I remember hanging out with him a bunch when I was in Indianapolis in 2013 for a conference.  I remember going to visit him and treat him to a nice hotel weekend in town after he had had a leg amputated.  I remember him visiting Pasadena for a weekend when we saw the AbFab movie and a one-man show (that he hated) at the Pasadena Playhouse and a good sushi dinner and a brunch where service was so slow he was getting crabby.  I remember on that trip picking him up late at night at LAX, and his flight was terribly delayed by problems with Southwest system-wide, but also how awful the traffic was late at night.  I remember buying him a one-way ticket - was it to or from the UK? - because he had a friend who could get him a one-way Atlantic crossing and he needed the other direction by plane and I could and he was a lovely man who was an Anglophile.  I remember having sushi here and wanting to have it on the back deck, but there was so much ash falling from a fire that it looked like it was snowing.  I remember buying him some nice wine at least once or twice for Christmas because I wanted him to have a decent tipple.

And I feel shitty that I hadn't seen him post in a while, and it only dimly registered.  And I didn't text or call.

Reach out to people who matter.  Greg is gone, aged only 55.  It's not fair.  And I don't get to appreciate what a lovely soul he was any more.

Greg exists!

Wow, busy week. Lots of enjoyable evenings (topics for blogging ahead) and busy days at work (which is, after all, work, so I don't spend time there writing blog posts). And now we're at O'Hare, booked on a flight four hours from now and hoping to sneak aboard an earlier flight on standby. Time, then, to blog a bit and bring all four of you back up to speed on the super glamourous life of Peter as HE SPINS OUT THE LAST FEW DAYS BEFORE HE TURNS 40 AND LIFE CHANGES IRREVOCABLY.

(that was a hint for cards, gifts, meals out, beers after work)

I'm all over the place with these posts - the only thing not progressing chronologically it seems - so heck, I'll just jump back into blogging with this one. The topic? Greg.



I am, it should be noted, a frequent and deeply involved user of Facebook. Funnily enough, I resisted for a long time, up until about 2.5 years ago. And then? Blammo! Off and running! Conrad shakes his head and says he should get his own profile, but I tell him, why bother? I keep up with enough people on Facebook that he doesn't need to.

Facebook is, however, a great way to make connections to new people. In some cases I have used it to get to know better some of the people I see only at conferences - the best example of this is how it was a great tool for TK and me as we built up our close friendship we now enjoy. It's also a way to meet people, though. Friends of friends, common interests. Greg falls into this latter group, then. Someone I met online and just found easy to get along with. Months and months later and there I am, in his neighbourhood, more or less, and an opportunity to meet.

Greg has more hair than I thought he would.

He's a sweetheart. Conrad and I were down staying in Carmel near Indianapolis for a swim event, and Greg drove on over to meet us at our hotel. From there, a good dinner of seafood not far away, at Mitchell's Fish Market. A bit of wine (yes, Ruth, a bit of wine the night before my 10 km race - you must be utterly scandalized at all the things I did wrong!) and even some deep fried food (kung pao calamari, shared) before my steamed cod with rice and spinach. All of it tasty. And truly, good company.

We lingered nearby outside for photos on the fine evening.




If it's only every 15 months or so that I see Greg in person, then adequate documentation is needed!

But yes, Greg exists. If you see his name, "liking" things I post, you now know that he really is out there, he really is a very charming (Conrad enjoyed meeting him very much) and handsome guy. Which is my way of trying to fix him up with my single gay friends, I suppose - any takers?

;-)

Goodbye Greg (for now)

Ah Greg...



Man, I really really hate it when the hot guys on the swim team move away.

Especially when they're super sweet guys.

Darn it.

Greg and his partner Ron will be in San Diego tomorrow, I think, setting up house, establishing lives there. Lane 5 will be missing one of my favourite teammates (oh yes, I very much play favourites, I admit).

At least we had a night last week, post-practice (thanks Adam for the work out!),








over at KitKat to raise a glass or two and wish him a good move.















Gone, until he comes back to visit, or until we make it to San Diego to see him and Ron.

Silver Fox

There is a long list of men in my life with whom I'm a tiny bit smitten. I don't mean in love with in the Conrad way, no. But there are some sweet, cute, hot, funny guys whom I just once in a while think, hmmmm.... And then I shake my head and remember how happy and well off I am.

Let's see (in alphabetical order), some examples:

Brett

David

Greg

Luis

(with apologies to all the other handsome men I know who I did not add to this particular list - some of you very definitely know who you are!)

And then there's the Silver Fox in all his silvery foxiness. Ah Dale. Handsome and charming. Snarky as all get out. Southern. Did I mention silvery and foxy?

Dale came to town last weekend for a few days of courses. I ended up backing out of Tuesday dinner with him and Max, but I did get a Sunday afternoon to enjoy his fine company.

We shopped.


We went to Bin 36 for drinks and a very late lunch/snack.

And the whole while I basked in his foxiness
and was content. Well, the service was a little off at Bin 36, but the cheeses were fine.

Sadly, I will not see him on my quick jaunt to Baltimore next month, but I will get to meet up with him (and his partner, Steven) in DC in June. Small delights to look forward to...